


𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 · 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

by sinfulshelbys



Category: Peaky Blinders, tommy shelby - Fandom
Genre: Cillian Murphy - Freeform, F/M, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Peaky Blinders - Freeform, Peaky Blinders References, The Garrison Pub (Peaky Blinders), blanca suarez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfulshelbys/pseuds/sinfulshelbys
Relationships: Tommy Shelby & Original Female Character(s), Tommy Shelby x OC, Tommy Shelby/Original Character(s), m/f - Relationship, tommy shelby - Relationship, tommy shelby x rosalie lewis
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18
Collections: Peaky Blinders





	1. Chapter 1

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 |❝ this is who he is,   
a product of disaster and war .❞ 

━━━ In which, Thomas Shelby, a man full of regrets and heartache falls for Rosalie Lewis, a woman filled with secrets and mysteries.

[Tommy Shelby x oc]  
Set season 2 era - onwards  
©sinfulserpents


	2. 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

𝗗𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗠

[BOOK ONE]

❝ _Dance with me. Dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist, Rosalie Lewis._ ❞

━━━ In which, Thomas Shelby, a man full of regrets and heartache falls for Rosalie Lewis, a woman filled with secrets and mysteries.

━━━

𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗧:

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 "𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐀" 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒

portrayed by Blanca Suárez

✧✧✧

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐁𝐘

portrayed by Cillian Murphy

✧✧✧

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒

portrayed by Lily James

✧✧✧

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 '𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎' 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐍

portrayed by Sebastian Stan

✧✧✧

𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚:

\- _paul anderson as_ **ARTHUR** **SHELBY**

\- _joe cole as_ **JOHN** **SHELBY**

\- _sophie rundle as_ **ADA** **THORNE** **(** **NÉE** **SHELBY** **)**

\- _harry_ _kirton_ _as_ **FINN** **SHELBY**

\- _helen_ _mccroy_ _as_ **POLLY** **GRAY**

\- _finn cole as_ **MICHAEL** **GRAY**

\- and more

━━━

**A/N:**

_i will be playing around and changing the plot of the show a little bit to better suit my story, my apologies. i do not own any characters or plot lines from the show, only my own._

_thank you for reading!!_

**Copyright © 2020 by** **sinfulserpents**

**All rights reserved.**


	3. 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞

_𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗺:_

_a period of time where it feels like the world is against you and everything is falling apart and going wrong. it seems like there is no way out._

━━━

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟗

 **THE MOON WAS** the only source of light as the man stands on the edge off the cliff, one step further and he would be sent pummelling to the jagged rocks down below. His breathing is ragged, tears flowing down his cheeks as he begs, pleads and screams for her to listen. To just hear him out.

She doesn't.

"Shut the fuck up before I blow your brains out," she spits, pushing the barrel of the revolver into the back of his scalp harsher. The man whimpers, but it falls on deaf ears. 

He makes one last attempt to spare his own life while the harsh wind at the top of the cliff causes him to sway slightly as he tries his hardest not to fall off. He was young. Too young to die – but she didn't care, he got himself into this mess, he wasn't getting out easy. 

"Miss Lewis, please-" 

"If you're not going to tell me who put the bullet in his head, I'm going to put one in yours," her tone is harsh, brown eyes boring into the back of his head as he tries to keep his sobs at bay. Tries to not show weakness.

He bites the inside of his cheek, the sharp taste of metallic coating his tongue. "If you kill me, you'll never know who did it." 

"I'll find out," she disregards his attempt to play her. "You're just one of the many means to an end. I don't need you, but I'll make you a deal. You tell me who shot my friend and I'll let you have a fast, painless death by a bullet to your head. You don't and I'll push you over the edge while you fall and wait for the moment where you land and die. You have ten seconds to make your decision."

He screams. Begs for someone to hear him while she counts down – knowing that nobody was around for miles to hear his pathetic pleas to live. And then he cracks.

"Sabini!" He yells, letting his head fall as the name slips past his lips. "His name is Darby Sabini. Rules the underground races. He put your friend in his grave."

She's silent as she takes in the information and drops the gun – he lets out a breath of relief thinking that his admission got him out of what he believed was inevitable death. He was wrong. With one kick to the underside of his knees and a gunshot to his shoulder, she sends him over the edge – the sounds of his terrified screams filling the air as she stares out into the distance. 

Until there's nothing but complete silence. 

Her hands dig through the pockets of her coat until they pull out a thick envelope – her fingers fanning the banknotes within it. She sighs, it's heavy with burden as her head tilts towards the night sky and her eyes shut. There's nothing but stillness – until the sirens come. 

And then she runs.


	4. 𝐢. 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘

━━━

𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎

 **THE ROOM WAS** cramped, the air thick with the humidity of body heat and the sound of jazz trumpets echo around the foyer as Rosalie pushes her way through the crowd. _She doesn't belong here_ , she thinks as she unfolds the small slip of paper between her fingers, reading over the messy scrawl of handwriting once more. 

_Sandra Marie, room twenty-seven. Alone._ She did as the writing told her, yet she wasn't expecting to end up in a whore house of all places. Ignoring the multitude of people against each other, Rosa began to ascend upstairs – her velvet heels clicking against the hard wood. 

She walks down the hallway, eyes darting to the numbers printed on the flimsy doors in black ink until she finds the one she was looking for. Heaving a deep breath, Rosa looks over both her shoulders to check if anyone was around to notice her arrival before she knocks, twice. 

A couple of seconds pass before the door swings open, Rosa taking a step back in shock while her eyes land upon a young blonde woman who grabs her hand and drags her into the room – head peaking out into the hallway before she quietly shuts the door.

"Do you have it?" The woman whispers, not even bothering with formal introductions. 

"I do," Rosa nods once, her dark, curled locks falling in front of her face at the action. She brushes them away, before holding out her purse. "Do you have what I was looking for?"

The woman grabs the purse, unclipping the lock before checking in it. The silver shine of the handgun inside causing her to exhale a shaky breath before her blue eyes meet Rosa's hazel ones, the burning wick from the candles around them adding an orange hue to them. 

"It's in the drawer," her strong Brummie accent flows through the room as she walks over to the place she was talking about, pulling out a yellow folder. "I asked around. Nobody would tell me much about him other than the basics; he was a sergeant major and a tunneller in the war, now he owns what he calls a _legitimate business._ "

"What do they do?"

"I don't know the specifics, but they export goods out of Birmingham to popular docks. My best guess is alcohol, possibly firearms."

Rosa hums, her eyes skimming the pages inside the paper before taking in the small picture of the man in question. His features were sharp – from his jawline to his pretty eyes and Rosa could tell that he had walked through hell and back. Much like herself.

"You're not from here," the woman interrupts her, now sitting on the end of the bed. Rosa tilts her head in a silent question. "You make it obvious. If you want to catch his attention – you don't need to do much."

Pursing her plump lips, Rosa shuts the folder before gesturing towards the purse clasped tightly in the woman's hands – ignoring her words.

"Are you going to do it tonight?"

"I- honestly, I don't know if I can do it."

Clicking her tongue, Rosa shrugs her shoulders. "I can do it for you considering all you've done for me. You just have to invite him up."

"Viviane said you would offer," the blonde woman grins, before holding the purse out for Rosa to take. She does without question. "You'll hide in the bathroom?"

"Out of sight, out of mind," Rosa muses, her slender fingers removing the gun from the sequin purse. She checks that it's loaded before removing the safety. "You just have to gesture me out and I'll do the rest. Viviane said she'll turn the music up louder once you go down to collect him."

"I should do that now," the girl suggests, but doesn't make an attempt to get off the bed. 

Rosa watches the pretty woman under scrutinising eyes. She observes the way she picks anxiously at her nails, before running her hands up and down her stocking covered legs – slightly lifting her red dress with the movements. She was innocent and clearly uncomfortable with what was set to go down.

"You don't want to be here," Rosa states, voice bare of any emotion. "I'll do it. Just go ask Viviane to collect him. I've got it from here."

The young woman lights up, hopping off the bed with an exhale of relief – she pulls Rosa into a hug that the she doesn't return. 

"Thank you! Thank you so much," she cries, before hurrying around the room to pull on her shoes and grab all her belongings. She pauses as her hand wraps around the doorknob, turning back to Rosa with a sincere smile. "I hope you find what you're looking for in Small Heath, Miss. Lewis."

Rosa lets a small, genuine smile spread upon her scarlet red lips. "Thank you." 

With that final sentiment, the woman leaves.

~~~~~~ 

Rosalie Anne Lewis hated entitled men. In fact, she despised them. Especially ones who take advantage of young girls – whore or not. 

She understood the struggles that some women went through just to put a roof over their head and food in their children's stomachs, so she wasn't one to judge. Money was money even through means that weren't ideal. At least, that was in her opinion. 

Removing her skirt, Rosa let out a disgusted scoff at her appearance in the mirror on the wall – she was covered in nothing more than her red shirt that had the first three buttons popped and her white stockings. Messing her hair slightly when she heard the sound of knocking resonate through the room, Rosa fell onto the bed in the most seductive pose that she could – placing the gun under the pillow.

"Come in," she practically sung, watching as the door swung open and an older man walked through. 

Anthony Joans was a revolting man who was in his forties and had taken a particularly _too_ keen interest the nineteen-year-old girl she had previously spoken to moments before. His black hair was thin and reseeding, and his forehead was often coated in a thin layer of sweat that dripped down to his moustache, which he would often spend hours grooming.

"You're not Sandra," the man fabricates his question as more of a statement. Yet his eyes still lustfully float over Rosa's dainty figure. The woman has to physically restrain herself from pulling a disgusted face.

"I'm not," she says instead, lowering her voice a few octaves – almost purring. "Sandra's sick, asked me to take care of you tonight."

"You any good?" 

Raising up onto her knees, Rosa trails her hands up her thighs a few times – drawing the revolting mans attention – his hungry eyes watching her actions intently. Trying her hardest to be seductive, Rosa runs one of her fingers over her lips before sucking on it – making the man audibly groan. 

"Why don't you come over here and find out for yourself?" She smiles, falling back against the bed as Anthony quickly removes his coat and shoes – trying to unbutton his pants as he crawls over her. 

Rosa lets him kiss up and down her neck for a moment, letting the man believe she was putty in his hands before she flips them both over – her hand gripping the weapon as she completes the action. She pins his arms down with her legs, and points the barrel in-between his widened eyes. 

"I hate men like you," Rosa spits, watching as he begins to squirm underneath her, tripping over his words as he tries to stop her actions. "You think you can take advantage of women just because they work in a place like this. You kept going even though she said fucking stop – you pig!"

Anthony begins to try to lift his legs and kick her – ultimately stopping when Rosa pushes the gun harder against his face. 

"I don't know how many times I'm going to have to explain to men like you that you don't touch a woman without her permission. You stop when she says stop, and for the love of God, you pay her for her fucking services!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the older man starts crying, causing Rosa to roll her eyes. _Pathetic_. 

"Tell me you don't know what I'm talking about when Sandra doesn't have your fucking handprint bruised around her throat," she spits. "Now say goodnight."

Before her could beg for her to stop, Rosa pulled the trigger – blood splattering over her skin. She doesn't flinch. Instead, she climbs off his slumped body and wipes the gun with the edge of the linen on the bed before placing the hot weapon in his limp left hand.

As fast as she could, Rosa grabs her coat and wraps it around her half-naked body, picking up her skirt and purse while bunching both up in her grip as she hurries to the door and races out of the room. She keeps her head down, hiding behind strands of her messed hair as she pushes her way through the crowd downstairs.

Nobody could ever know she was there. Nobody could know what she did.


	5. 𝐢𝐢. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢

━━━

 **THE GARRISON PUB** was usually a place where one could go to think and drown the troubling thoughts that plagued their mind in booze and the occasion round of Tokyo. It was never full of more than twenty people at once and had singing every Saturday all day long. At least, that's what Rosa was told about the place. 

The thick stench of cigar smoke fills Rosa's lungs as soon as she steps into the pub, her eyes taking in the sight in front of her – it was obvious her intel was wrong, the place was packed. She remains in the doorway for a moment, removing her gloves before tucking them into the pockets of her coat. 

She weaves her way through the men who were chugging glasses of beer, until she finds herself at the bar. Rosa takes off her hat and places it on the countertop just as the barmaid arrives, the small woman smiling brightly.

"Good evening, Miss. What can I get you?" 

Rosa hums, eyes scanning the array of alcohol behind the woman with long black hair. "A Mary Pickford would be nice."

The barmaid nods before hurrying to go make the drink. Sucking in a deep breath, Rosa turns to lean her back against the bar, eyes watching everyone in the pub. It was lively – not as loud as the ones back in Warwick, but the atmosphere was slightly lighter. A tap on her shoulder causes Rosa to turn back around, being met with the barmaid who was still grinning like she had dug up a nugget of gold.

"Your drink, Miss."

Rosa smiles politely in thanks as she takes the small cup of amber liquid, lifting it to her ruby coated lips. It doesn't take long for what she sought out to come straight to her – his body filling the space around her. He exhales the smoke from his cigarette, the thin smoke clouding around her while causing her to stand a little taller.

"You're new," his voice flows through her ears – his words are spoken politely but also with a sense of warning. Rosa puts down her drink, but doesn't turn her head to look at him even as moves to stand next to her – his left arm brushing her right.

"How do you know? Maybe I just haven't ever been to this pub – the Marquis is quite exquisite," Rosa smirks, raising a pointed brow. 

"Exquisite," he muses, clicking his tongue when she finally turns to look at him. "Is that what you've heard? That the Marquis is _exquisite_?"

She shrugs. "So I've heard."

He lets out a chuckle as he gestures for the barmaid. One rum. No ice. A man of class but still holds a certain authority. 

"You are the least subtle person in my pub."

"Your pub?" She chooses to ask, not willing him to press on about how out of place she looks. It caught his attention – which was her end goal.

" _My_ pub."

He holds his arms out as he gestures around them, her eyes following his movements before she lets a small smile grown on her lips as her finger trails the rim of her cup – his icy blue eyes dart to her hand as she pulls the glass back up to her mouth and finishes the drink. _Flirty_. He only tenses his jaw.

"Are you a whore?"

She splutters, coughing on some of the alcohol. "Excuse me?"

"I've never seen you before, but my men have. They saw you get off your boat when you arrived, watched you walk to a whore house. So are you a whore? Miss..." He trails off waiting for an introduction – to which Rosa is curt.

"Lewis. And what are _you_ then, huh? A spy?"

Raising his arms in surrender, with a genuine smile he shakes his head – taking a gulp of his own drink before tilting the cup towards her. 

"I'm a very popular man around here, Miss. Lewis," he tilts his chin towards her. "But, then again – you already knew that."

"I've heard a thing or two," Rosa nods. "And for future reference, I'm not a whore."

"Thomas Shelby," he introduces himself after a beat of silence, holding out a hand for Rosa to shake. "And if you're not a whore, what were you doing in a place where whores work?"

"I know the owner – she's family. Wanted her to know I'm finally in town."

He hums at her words and Rosa couldn't tell whether he believed her or not – but she didn't press on when he didn't question her further. Rosa takes her time to finally take in the man next to her, he was handsome – that much she was certain of. With his dark hair that brought out his crystal blue eyes that resembled the ocean she had only ever heard tales about. 

She watches as he takes one last inhale from his cigarette before tossing it on the floor – squashing it out with the point of his polished shoes. He was dressed in wealth, a grey suit that was made specifically for him by tailors that probably spent hours sewing – pricking their fingers with needles to make sure every thread was perfectly in place for the man.

His gaze darts down to her empty glass before taking it out of her grasp. "Would you care for another drink, Miss. Lewis." She chuckles, taking the cup back from his hands as he gestures for the barmaid. 

"I would like another, but I can order for myself, Mr. Shelby."

"As you wish," he raises his brows at her brazenness, gesturing for her to go ahead.

"Another Mary Pickford, thank you."

The barmaid furiously nods, taking Rosa's cup that she pushed towards her – the woman becoming jittery in the presence of Tommy Shelby. Tommy chuckles at her choice of drink, but he doesn't say anything.

"So why are you in Small Heath if you're not a whore?" He asks when the barmaid leaves them be for a few seconds before returning. Rosa only shakes her head at his question – taking her now refilled drink from the pretty woman.

"That's a question that's going to require more than two drinks in my system to get an answer."

"Very well," he brushes her off, showing no ill intention. "Just know that I know when someone is keeping secrets. And you, Miss. Lewis, are a woman who is keeping many."

Rosa licks her parted lips before she shrugs her shoulders. 

"Takes a secret keeper to know a secret keeper, Mr. Shelby," he slightly scoffs at her statement, watching as she takes a slip of paper out from the pocket of her skirt. "You were right, I did know of you before tonight. I wanted to give you this."

He plucks the paper from between her fingers, unfolding it to read over the words. "Kristoff Lewis was your father? You're here on business."

"That's the idea, Mr. Shelby. I wanted to speak with you tonight to organise a meeting."

The man shakes his head in disbelief, before sending a pointed look her way. "What do you want?"

"You'll find out in our meeting, Mr. Shelby. I'm a firm believer that business and pleasure don't mix." She smirks.

"Yet you're here mixing both," he leers, before downing the remainder of his drink. "I'll hear out your proposition. Tomorrow morning, eleven o'clock. Don't be late." He points towards her before walking away.

She watches with an amused expression as he walks back to his family - swirling the liquid in her cup. Step one? Complete. 


	6. 𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘

━━━

 **ROSALIE STOOD IN** the middle of the parlour of her new flat – her hands on her hips as she took in how bare it looked compared to her old home. 

The furniture that Viviane had generously donated to her was worn thin – the three seater lounge was barely hanging on by a thread. The thin coat of white paint on the walls was chipping off, and the rug was so thin that she could still feel the wooden floor beneath it. But, Watery Lane wasn't a terrible place to live, if you disregard the polluted air and muddy road. 

Brushing strands of her hair that had fallen out of her small braid, Rosa walked down the hallway to reach the door that led into the single bedroom – pushing open the door that let out a squeak of protest, Rosa sucking in a breath between her clenched teeth. 

"Rosie?" A soft voice called out from under a multitude of blankets, a flurry of mousy brown curls poking out. Rosa snickers at the young girl who was trying to untangle herself from the sheets.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Rosa grins at her younger sister, the girl finally sitting up – practically leaping into Rosa's arms. "Sorry I got in late."

Lacey Lewis was the only person that Rosa trusted more than herself. The nineteen-year-old was the complete opposite of her older sister, where Rosalie was rough around the edges, Lacey was docile. Where Rosa was stubborn and hot-headed, Lacey was soft-hearted and practical.

They were the perfect pair of siblings – albeit the many problems they face in the shadows. 

"That copper called," Lacey spoke, curling her arms over her legs as Rosa began to change out of her dress. "Wanted to know if it was done."

"What'd you tell him?" Rosa frowned, climbing under the covers next to her sister.

"That you did it as soon as we arrived, and then Viviane called to thank you for what you did for Sandra," Lacey joined her sister under the blankets, both girls turning to face each other. "The neighbours came to introduce themselves as well."

"Yeah?" Rosa raised a brow. "Did you speak to them?"

"For a minute. It was an older woman, Doris I think her name was and her grandson who lives with her, Theodore."

"You didn't have an attack?"

Rosa noticed the way that her sister immediately began to fiddle with the mattress cover, her eyes not meeting Rosa's gaze – the older of the two letting out a gentle sigh as she tucked Lacey's unruly locks behind her ear.

"I'll get the medicine tomorrow," she muttered, watching as Lacey timidly looked up at her. "It'll be okay Lace. You'll get better."

"You remember what to say to the doctor when he asks?" 

Offering Lacey a lopsided grin, Rosa took her little sisters hand in her own. "Of course, been doing it since you were thirteen."

"You're the best, you know that?" Lacey let a small smile grow on her pretty features. "How about that man that we came here for? Did you find him?"

"I did. I have a meeting with him tomorrow morning, I'll probably be gone before you wake up."

Lacey said nothing more as Rosa lifted her left arm for her sister to snuggle up to her – her thumb rubbing light circles on Lacey's shoulder, lulling the girl into a deep sleep. 

Rosa, however, couldn't bring herself to shut her eyes – too scared of the nightmares that would come.

~~~~~~~~

Rosa had spent most of her childhood in railway stations, surrounded by people she didn't know as she sat on the platform – waiting for the train. She learnt to analyse people, understood little quirks about them just upon a first glance.

But Tommy Shelby was different. Someone she couldn't read just through studying, like she was doing as they sat opposite each other – Rosa couldn't tell if it was something she disliked or appreciated about the man.

"Miss. Lewis, since it was your request to meet – feel free to start talking business," he gestured towards her with his glass of whiskey – the cigarette between his fingers emitting lines of smoke with his movements.

Humming, Rosa tapped her thumb against the steel of the knife that was attached to the holster on her thigh under her skirt as she crossed her legs. 

Rosalie Lewis was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. She knew who Thomas Shelby was from her intel – she had heard the gruesome tales that people spoke about the man, so she wasn't coming to the meeting without protection. Besides, she knew that she would have more accuracy with a knife than he would with the pistol attached to his hip

A tense silence settled through the room, the pair just staring at each other before Rosa relaxed in her seat and gestured towards the obviously stubborn man.

"I was expecting this meeting to just be the two of us," she chuckled, nodding towards Arthur Shelby, the eldest of the lot. The man of topic only scratched his moustache and offered a shrug to the woman who he obviously perceived as no threat.

"If you wish to speak to me, you can do so in-front of me brother," Tommy bluntly responded. 

With a clenched jaw, Tommy stared Rosa down thinking that the woman would shy away at his expression like many men twice her size had done before. Instead, he frowned when she began to laugh.

"Are you trying to intimidate me, Mr. Shelby?" He didn't respond, as Rosalie resumed her little speech. "I know who you and your family are. Everybody seems to speak nothing but praise for you lot, especially you Thomas. But you see, I don't see all the fuss now that we're here, face-to-face."

Tommy's features hardened at the insult, his hand outstretching behind him as Arthur reached for his own gun – effectively stopping him. 

"Did you organise a meeting just to insult me, Miss. Lewis? Because if so you can get a wiggle on out of here." Rosa only shook her head at how easily he got fired up. But Tommy's next words had her becoming fed up with the situation pretty quickly.

"I can say the same about you. Your father was an honourable man, Miss. Lewis. A captain in the war, worked alongside one of my business associates." Tommy's words were precise and calculate as he spoke to her. "Yet you sit in front of me, nothing more than a little girl trying to be like her father."

"I'd choose my next words carefully if I were you, Mr. Shelby."

It was one thing for them to insult each other, but Rosa wasn't going to let the man in-front of her insult or make a mockery of her family.

"You and I were cut from the same block, aren't we?" Tommy continued, not once removing his hard stare from Rosa. "I hear that you're Romani too, like us. I know that your father was reported dead from his service, although I couldn't find anything on your mother. You moved here all the way from Warwick–"

Rosalie cut his speech off. "I thought you weren't a spy, Mr. Shelby."

"You served too. As a nurse," Tommy stated, watching smugly as Rosa's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You came back home not even a year into the war, there are no records as to why."

"What's your point, Mr. Shelby?"

Tommy downed the rest of his whiskey, before responding. Rosa took notice of how Arthur seemed to be calm towards his brothers attitude, taking it as a good sign that things weren't going to go South.

"The point is that I have contacts," he swallowed thickly. "People who can find a lot out about you and why you're really here, Miss. Lewis. So why don't you just tell me the reasons you're sitting in my office?"

A moment passed before Rosa took out her own tin of cigarettes, running the end of one over her lips before looking towards the man. "You got a lighter?" 

Clenching his teeth, Tommy opened the draw beside him and pulled out his lighter, leaning over the desk to light Rosa's cigarette. The woman took a deep inhale before letting the smoke flood out past her parted lips. Rosa gently plucked the burning stick from her mouth, letting her arm lazily hang off the edge of the armrest as the stick burnt. 

"Now, I want to make it known that you're not going to be able to run me out of the city, Mr. Shelby," Rosa began, staring the man down. "You're not going to scare me away from doing what I came here to do. Now, as for business. There's a man that I'm searching for, he owes me a whole lot of shit that I won't bore you with the details of. I intend to make his life hell until I get them."

Tommy grunted, before asking one of the questions at the tip of his tongue. "What does this man owe you?"

"That part is none of your concern," Rosa shrugged off. "I have, however, heard that you are currently at war with the man I'm searching for. I'm suggesting an allegiance, between you and I, to join forces and take him out."

"Join forces," Tommy mussed, looking towards his brother and then back to Rosa. "And what exactly is one woman going to add to my _force_?"

Scowling, Rosa took a deep breath to calm herself from snapping at how much Tommy underestimated her. "I'll have you know that I'm more than just one woman, Mr. Shelby. If you knew the things I've done, the things I've seen – you wouldn't be sitting there with your booze and cocky attitude belittling me."

Tommy was obviously amused at the situation, but nonetheless asked Arthur to write down a deal – slapping a pad of paper and pencil into the older mans chest. 

"Who is this man that you want to give Hell, Miss. Lewis?"

Taking a drag of her cigarette, Rosa dropped it to the floor and squashed it out with the bottom of her red high-heel. 

"Goes by the name Darby Sabini," she spat his name out like it was poison in her mouth. "I want him dead and I want to be the one to put a bullet in the back of his fucking skull. Don't ask for my reasons, just know that I have honourable ones."

"Very well. If I go through with this deal and allow us to have an alliance, what would be my end?"

"Help," Rosalie stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "When you need a favour, I'll be there. After that we can go our seperate ways."

Rosa watched as Tommy obviously went over the proposition in his head, thinking through the potential advantages and consequences before deciding – standing up while holding out an open palm towards Rosa. The woman instantly rose to her feet and placed her hand in his. 

"I'll have my brother write a contact and you can come pick it up from the Garrison later this evening," he stated. "I'll be expecting you."

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. I do, however, hope that you've learnt to not miscalculate me again."

"Oh, I'm sure you can do a lot with the knife under your skirt," a genuine smile finally broke out on both Tommy's and Rosa's faces with his admission of knowing about the concealed weapon. 

"I could do a lot more with a knife than you would expect," Rosa retorted before taking her leave, both the Shelby brothers watching her confidently exit the office.

"Bloody hell," Arthur snickered after a beat of silence. "She's just like ya, Tom. Going to give ya a run for ya money, I tell ya."

Tommy said nothing, knowing that his brothers words held nothing but the truth. 


End file.
